


What Freedom Feels Like

by emtinuviel



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Fenris POV, Rivalry Romance, rogue hawke - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 12:04:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11531847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emtinuviel/pseuds/emtinuviel
Summary: Following his confrontation with Danarius, Fenris thinks back on his time in Kirkwall. Why does he not feel free?A Fenris POV rivalmance set after Alone, during the Act 3 Speak to Fenris.





	What Freedom Feels Like

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a little distraction from the longer stories I am working on. I expanded on a lot of the in game dialogue, to make it all a bit more satisfying. I may add a Hawke POV to it at some point, if the mood strikes.  
> BioWare owns everything.

From the moment he met her, Fenris and Hawke didn't get along.

They fought almost constantly. His first three years in Kirkwall had seemed like one never ending argument; mages this, the circle that.  
It was partially his own fault for still spending so much time with her.  
Initially, he had felt it was a debt he owed her for her unknowing assistance. He also knew that if Danarius ever did come for him, he stood a much better chance of defeating him with Hawke's daggers alongside his sword.

She could fight like no one he had ever seen. Her normally sarcastic and less than enthused demeanor fell away completely, to be replaced by the single-mindedness of battle. There were many battles. For being a simple group of a Ferelden refugee's ragtag friends, they did seem to be in quite a few skirmishes.

Fenris had once asked Varric why he went along with all the constant fighting. He was a business man, not a thug. Surely he could have chosen to sit back and watch, waiting to hear the exaggerated version later at the Hanged Man.

"Well, Broody, its like this", the dwarf started as he polished off his ale, "Hawke likes to get in the midst of all these things. It's her hobby. Whereas some women like to sew or sit about and gossip, she likes to slit throats and make coin. So because I like Hawke, and I also like coin, I go along with it. Not to mention it's good material for my writing. Every week it seems like we stumble upon some outlandish new problem everyone else is too lazy or sensible to solve."

He was right about that. As much as Hawke grumbled and complained that everyone always wanted her for something, they all knew she loved being the one to take care of Kirkwall's many issues.  
It helped that these jobs usually filled her pockets.

Why the rest agreed to go along with her schemes, Fenris assumed, was for the same reason as the dwarf. None of them enjoyed the fighting, or the running all about Kirkwall tracking down objects or information, but somehow Hawke's enthusiasm seeped beneath their skin. They wanted to spend time with her, and she charmed them into taking part in all her elaborate mishaps.

In return, she always helped each of them with their own problems.  
Even he had a hard time saying no to her requests that he come along. Fighting with her some of the time was worth whatever new madness he would witness along the way, and it was better than sitting in his mansion alone.

He wouldn't have said they were friends, but they were not enemies despite how it likely looked at times. He still held a deep respect for her. She was clever, dangerous, funny, beautiful...

Then in one evening everything with Hawke had changed completely, while somehow staying exactly the same.  
He had come to apologize for leaving them on the wounded coast in a fit of rage, and subsequently isolating himself from the group, after their encounter with Hadriana. It had been fine, and she admitted she had been worried about him, but it built into an angry shouting match about magic yet again.

Just when he thought he needed to take a break from being around her for a while and turned to go, he found himself kissing her up against a wall, his hands roaming. He could vividly recall her legs wrapping around his waist, arms around his neck, as he hoisted her up and carried her up the stairs to her chambers.  
While his build as an elf was rather thin, he was strong for his kind. Wielding a greatsword built up his shoulders. Hawke was taut. Fit, but lean, allowing her to be quick and quiet. It was not hard for him to support her weight. If she had been built like Aveline, there might have been a problem.

That evening had been the best and worst of his life, simultaneously. This infuriating woman somehow wanted him. He had harboured conflicting feelings for a while, but he simply counted those among things in his life that would never be granted to him.

Sure, they had flirted occasionally, but he had always thought that was just her way. She flirted with all her friends, or her acquaintances, and sometimes her enemies. While he couldn't rule out Isabella or that damned abomination, he doubted she was trying to bed Aveline.

He recalled telling her once, in a round about way after a bit too much wine, that he wanted to sleep with her. It wasn't something he ever actually considered happening in his future, with anyone. His markings were too painful, and trusting someone that much felt impossible. Still, despite their difference of opinion and the way she grated on his nerves from time to time, he had thought about her increasingly, in ways that were very inappropriate. She had responded to his comment flirtatiously, but he hadn't taken it seriously . It was wishful thinking.

Yet there they were, armour discarded, clothes strewn about. It had been everything he imagined and more. Even as their contact caused the lyrium to burn his skin, he felt a much more pleasurable fire from her touch. It would have been a perfect beginning to a happy ending, were it not for his own idiocy.

The memories came in broken fragments, but they shook him free of what minimal security and contentedness he had created for himself in Kirkwall, and what little hope he had of anything with Hawke.  
He was reminded that he was nothing more than a slave, could be nothing more than a slave, until Danarius was dealt with.

He had left her.  
It haunted him.

Her touch haunted him, never fading from his mind as if it was as seared into him as the markings. Her words echoed in his head, full of hurt and anger.

"You are the one who came to me! Now you are just going to leave?!"

The heartbreak in her voice had been apparent. It was a wound that would never properly heal, but foolishly he walked away.

Not without taking the silk ribbon. He didn't know why he did it. There was no way she would ever want him again after it was all said and done. Still, he knew she was the only one he could ever care for, even if it was over before it could begin.

He would always be hers, though she likely wouldn't be his.

The ribbon was wrapped around his gauntlet. He sat alone in his mansion for a few days afterward, not eating or sleeping, until one morning a note arrived with the Hawke seal on the back.

"Fenris,  
 Travelling to Sundermount day after tomorrow. If you will come, please meet us at the Hanged Man this evening to go over specifics.  
 Hawke"

He hadn't expected her to still want his accompaniment. In fact, he was considering leaving Kirkwall altogether. The note was scrawled quickly, her handwriting not as effortlessly neat as usual. He could have sworn a few words were smudged, as if water had dripped onto the page as she wrote. Still, she wanted him to come.

Fenris found that their relationship had changed very little on the outside after that point. He saw her eyes drift to the ribbon around his wrist the first night they met at the Hanged Man, but she never brought it up or asked him to remove it. When he had taken to wearing her family crest on his hip, he was hoping no one would give it a second thought. After all, she had made each of them a part of her family. With the tragic death of her mother, they were all she had...besides Gamlen.

The abomination was the first to notice, and he scowled openly at him. It was no secret the vile mage had been after Hawke from the start, and he went about it with renewed vigour after learning of their night together. Isabella told Fenris a year or so later that she had walked in on Hawke very straightforwardly letting Anders down. The elf had a noticeable bounce in his step for weeks after.

Hawke saw the crest, too. He saw her eyes go to it on a day when they were traipsing through Hightown, stopping at the market stalls. She looked from the crest, to him, then turned away quickly. Her face had gone a bit pink, but he swore the corners of her mouth turned up slightly.

* * *

 

Time went on, as it always did. After the death of her mother, Hawke was facing the problems of the city with a new ferocity. Smaller problems were soon pushed aside, replaced with the threat of the Qunari. Tension seemed to be building throughout Kirkwall, and it was soon to burst.

They continued to argue, though since the ordeal with the necromancer who killed her mother, she was less quick to defend freedom for all mages. He refrained from continually pointing out that he was right. There was also something awkward between them. It continued to be awkward, but both were two stubborn to address it. He was glad to still be following her, and he told her so. That made her face pink, and earned a groan from Isabella.

Others tried to pry. He knew Varric was asking Hawke questions about their relationship. So was Isabella, but that was likely for her own purposes. The pirate wench did not want to take his no for an answer. Or Hawke's, for that matter.

"I spoke of you with Hawke the other evening." She said, one night as they drank in the Hanged Man.

Fenris groaned.

"Oh come now, it wasn't that bad! I was simply asking her what she did to have you so tightly wrapped around her finger. I was hoping I could do some winding of my own, you see. But she said it was 'complicated'. I took that to mean the two of you have all the boring bits of your relationship without any of the fun ones."

She had slid closer to him at bar, but he stepped away. The woman sighed, waving her hands as if to say she was giving up. Finally.

"Well I told her you were infatuated with her beyond reasonable understanding. I hope that helps."

It didn't, but Fenris really couldn't explain why to the Rivaini.

Still, time passed. They had pushed the Qunari from the city, after a rather damaging fight that Isabella could have prevented. Still, she did give the book back, and Hawke... well Fenris was never more terrified or proud than he was watching Hawke duel the Arishok to the death. Every noble in Kirkwall knew she was someone to respect after that day. The title of Champion only barely did it justice.

He told her the day he learned his sister was coming to meet him in Kirkwall. He had received word, but couldn't think about going to the Hanged Man without her beside him. His head said it was for backup in case of a fight. His heart said he was nervous, and she made him stronger.

"You suspect it is a trap, then? That Danarius knows?"

"Obviously. The more it appears he does not, the more certain I become that he does. Come with me , Hawke. If it's a trap I need someone who can fight to back me up."

_I need you there with me._

He didn't say it, but he didn't have to.  
The stern expression she often had plastered on her face as of late melted away, and was replaced with softer eyes. He preferred the stern expression. When she looked at him with tender concern it made his chest hurt.

"Of course, Fen. Anything you need, you know you just have to ask." She smiled at him.

This was the first time in a long time they actually locked eyes without one of them turning away awkwardly. It had seemed like they were both uncomfortably avoiding each other's gaze. The way he knew she obviously cared for him in that moment should have pleased him, but it only made him feel all the more guilty and angry with himself.

He turned away, facing the fire.

"I know you owe me no favours,but if we happen to go there anyways..."

He heard her sigh.

Whatever state their relationship was in these last three years, Hawke never let her emotions get in the way of what needed to be done. It wasn't just with him, either. If one of them asked, she would always help. It didn't matter how she felt about it. The help she continued providing Anders was a fine example. Her friendship with the abomination had been souring as of late. He was becoming less man and more monster, and Hawke was finally beginning to realize it. Still she offered her assistance whenever he asked, and she continued to bring him along when they were in need of a healer.

The unsaid words that danced between Fenris and Hawke remained unsaid, and they went about preparing themselves for the encounter with his sister at the Hanged Man.

He recalled how in sync he felt with Hawke in that moment. As they entered the bar, they turned to each other, eyes narrowing. They both sensed a trap.

Quite a trap it was, though the foolish magister didn't know what he was in for when he provoked Hawke. He knew she was the Champion of Kirkwall, but that knowledge didn't seem to come with an indication of what she had done to gain that title.

Calling her his "new mistress" was what did her in. He could feel the anger pulsing from her like electricity. Hawke rarely got truly angry, but when she did, she became unstoppable. The rest of them barely put in any effort when she let loose on Danarius' men. Fenris was lucky she left the magister for him to take care of.

It had been an exhausting ordeal. There were bodies to clean up, but he couldn't stay there any longer. Too many emotions took hold of him.  
He said he didn't care what they did with his sister's body. She was part of his past better left forgotten than remembered as a traitor. He told Hawke he needed to get out of there, and he went home.

That was only a few days ago, but it felt like eternity. He paced around the mansion, wine in hand, thinking over everything that had happened up until this point, and waiting. Nothing felt any different. Surely he should feel something by now?

He was free. No one would come for him now. He could truly live. Something should have changed, but it was all still there.

Anger, hurt, confusion, heartache.

Would this be his life? Sitting in a big empty mansion, waiting for the empty hole inside him to fill, while time went on without him?

"You have me, Fenris."

She had said it when he told her he was alone. How long would that really be true? She was not his. She never really was.

Hawke would marry some nobleman, have a family and a new life. Everyone else would move on but him, and he would stay here pining for a future with a woman he left alone in her bed all those nights before.

He brought this up to Varric, when the dwarf came by to ask why he missed Wicked Grace.

"I can't claim to know everything about women, Broody, but I know everything about Hawke."

Varric took a seat and helped himself to the wine.

"Then by all means, continue. Though I do not see how this will solve my problems." Fenris responded.

Varric chuckled.

"Maybe it will, maybe it won't. It's been nearly three years now, hasn't it? Hawke became the Champion, and we all got dragged along for the ride. Everyone in Hightown knows who she is, and they all want her attention. She ignored at least 5 invitations this week alone. The funny thing seems to be that despite three years of offers from young noblemen, young men she meets on the street, or Anders and Isabella on a regular basis, our dear Hawke lives a solitary life with no suitors warming her bed." Varric waved his hand dramatically, as he often did when he entered what they all took to calling 'storyteller mode'.

Fenris scowled, and made to speak, but was cut off.

"Don't interrupt. And don't ask how I know that. I just do. Do you see what I'm try to say? For all Hawke's charm, something is keeping her from settling down with any of the fools chasing her."

The dwarf raised a brow at him.

Fenris caught Varric's meaning, but it only made him more angry with himself. The dwarf left shaking his head, and Fenris went back to his drinking and pacing.

* * *

 

An hour or two passed. It was hard to tell time when he covered the windows. He heard the front door close gingerly, and he paused.

Quiet feet came up the stairs, and he finally saw her face peer around the door frame.

"Festis bae umo canavarum", he mumbled as she entered cautiously.

"If you plan to curse at me, at least do it so I can understand."

She hated when he swore in Tevene. She wanted to know when insults were directed at her so she could respond in kind.

"It means 'you will be the death of me'. What am I doing here, Hawke?" He let out an exasperated huff. "I stayed with you six years ago. I could have gone anywhere in Thedas, but I stayed here. Partly because I owed you, and partly because I thought you could help me."

Everything he kept dwelling on was coming out now, and making him all the more angry. She did not interrupt him, though her eyes told him she was worried.

"Well you did, didn't you? Hadrianna is dead. Danarius is dead. Now I am truly free. So tell me, Champion of Kirkwall", he was right in front of her now, almost nose to nose, "why does it not feel any different? This freedom tastes like ashes."

She moved to take his hand, but he pulled away.

"You were already free, Fenris. Can't you see that now? I told you once before that your need for revenge was consuming you. You've had your revenge, but it was never going to be what freed you."

That was easy enough for her to say. How dare she come here and preach at him?

"Ah yes, platitudes are so easy! Tell me next how I am in charge of my own destiny, or that I must conquer my inner demons! Actually, best save those for the mage, as he is doing a poor job of the last one."

He wanted to break something, or swing his sword at something. Anything to release all this anger. He was angry at her, but he knew none of it was her fault. Truthfully, she was the victim in all of this. She had never asked to be swept up in his problems, but got dragged in just the same.

What was worse was that she was right. His revenge hadn't changed anything. Not really.  
Now she stood there before him, looking more hurt than he had ever seen her when they shouted at one another. She wasn't shouting back this time.

He sighed, truly looking at her now. He wondered if he looked as broken through her eyes as he felt. She had a way of seeing his thoughts through his face. It was usually used against him, but sometimes it simply meant he couldn't hide.

"I apologize, Hawke. You are not responsible for my misery. Why am I angry at you?"

_Because she is responsible. Just not directly._

He pushed that voice from his mind before he said something he regretted, and chose to sit down. Hawke was being exceptionally patient with him in this state. It reminded him that at the end of the day she truly did care. Just as he went to her after Leandra's death, she knew he was hurting and she came.

"What did you hope to find, Fen?" She asked, softly this time. The concern was still on her face, but she knew better than to move to touch him.

"I thought finding Varania would open up a new world, one that was lost. Maybe remembering who I was would give me a new purpose, a better plan for my future. But that life is gone now, and I can't get it back." He stared into the fire as he considered what he truly expected to gain. "Maybe I never really wanted it back. I just needed to remember it to truly accept that. It can be buried with those who were a part of it. I've killed my past."

That was the realization he was looking for, he supposed. The past was his master more than Danarius had been. The weight of that was sinking in, and he felt rather lost.

"What do I do now, Hawke?"

After a moments pause, she smiled. It wasn't her usual grin that lit up her whole face, but the concern was gone from her eyes. They were so blue. He had never seen eyes that could pierce the soul like hers did. Perhaps it was what made everything she said seem so compelling.

"You start again. Build a life, Fenris. Stop living like a ghost in this empty house. It has been years and you still won't let Kirkwall be your home! You won't let..."

Her voice trailed off, but her eyes held his.

Whether it was those eyes charming him, or simply that she was saying exactly what he would have told himself, he knew he had reached a turning point that he needed to embrace if he wanted anything to be better.

"Perhaps you are right. It is time to let go of all this hatred. It is poison but I keep swallowing it. I no longer have anywhere to lay the blame. Everything I have suffered since coming to Kirkwall I have done to myself."

Her hands fidgeted. She reached one forward, but pulled it back just as quickly. Whatever she wished to say was not coming easy, and that was rare for Hawke.

"You don't have to go through this alone, you know." She finally whispered.

There was a meaning in her words that he did not want to consider, lest it was a product of his wishful thinking. There was no way that after all this time she could possibly still want him.

"Don't I?"

She sighed, giving him her best 'don't be an idiot' look. That was the Hawke he knew and loved.

He did love her. The blood mage often teased him, saying she could tell he was in love with Hawke by the way he stared at her when she wasn't looking. He had argued, but that was his pride talking. His heart knew the truth.

Everyone else knew it, he just couldn't say it out loud without feeling like the complete fool that he was for hurting her. Three years of wearing her ribbon on his wrist had made it fairly obvious without any words needed.

"Hawke..Marian, I...it's been three years. We have never discussed what happened between us." He wished he hadn't brought it up right after he said it, but if it wasn't dealt with now it never would be.

"You didn't want to talk about it. I thought it best to just let it be."

"Of course I didn't want to talk about it! Did you truly want to talk about it? I felt like a fool. I thought it better if you just hated me. I was prepared to pack up and leave if you asked me to. I would have expected no less. Yet here we are."

Her eyes were red, and he could see her fists clenching the way they did when she was reigning herself in.

"I never hated you. I've been hurting, Fen, but I never once have hated you. You just needed time."

Time. Had she truly been waiting three years for him to get to this point?

"I thought being away from you would make it better, make it easier to take, but it didn't. All time made me realize is that I wasted it. I've destroyed the ghosts of my former life that were haunting me, but I've created a new one. That night...the memory of your touch haunts me. I feel it as if it were yesterday."

He stood now, resuming his pacing, trying to find the right words to make her understand the torment he had been in since that moment. Still she sat, waiting for him as she had been all these years. He did not deserve it, did not deserve her.

"I should have begged your forgiveness then. I've only caused you suffering since. I only hope you can forgive me now."

"Tell me why. I know it, but I need to hear you say it. Please."

He wanted to rip out his own heart. These were old wounds he never should have left to fester. Now ripping them open was the only way to heal them.

"The pain, the memories... they were too much for me to bear. I was a coward. I didn't want to face my past and discover what I've discovered now. That what I hoped to gain was fruitless. And look where that cowardice has gotten us! I've hurt you, and I am not any better off for it. I waisted all of this time when I should never have left. I should have remained there with you and told you then how I have always felt."

His voice was cracking. He would tear his soul out and give it to her if that would make any of this easier. He thought he knew fear, but in this moment he stood to lose the only home he ever had. Her.

"And what would you have said?" she asked quietly, eyes suddenly more hopeful than he had seen in some time.

He knelt in front of her and took her hands in his.

"Nothing could be worse than the thought of living without you."

There was silence. His heartbeat sounded like thunder in his ears. Finally, she broke it.

"I understand, Fenris. You were blinded by your own anger, and you couldn't see that I always understood. Why do you think I have been here, waiting until you realized that though you thought you had left, I hadn't let you go?"

He ran his thumb along her cheek. He didn't deserve someone like her, but he would be damned if he ever let her out of his sight again.

"If there is a future to be had, Marian Hawke, if there is any life for me to build in Kirkwall or anywhere, I will walk into it gladly at your side."

She stood, using her weight to pull his face down and capturing his lips.

This was freedom. She was right that he'd had it all along...

"You know that I still disagree with your support of the mages."

"Shut up."

It just took an incredibly infuriating woman, with incredibly soft lips, to make him see it.


End file.
